


Don't Talk to Me, Don't Look at Me

by SereneHighness



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Sex, F/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Season/Series 05 Spoilers, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:15:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneHighness/pseuds/SereneHighness
Summary: SEASON 5 SPOILERSOne night, filled with pain after Lucifer's departure, Chloe gets drunk. In an attempt to fill the void left behind by Lucifer, she has sex with Lucifer's twin, Michael.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Michael
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71





	Don't Talk to Me, Don't Look at Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This story is about angsty sex between Chloe and Michael that Chloe uses as a coping mechanism to get over Lucifer. The sex is not explicit, but if that's not your thing this story is not for you. There is also an f-word in here. 
> 
> I'm also fairly new to writing fanfic and I'm kinda nervous to post, especially since this is my first time writing sex, but I hope y'all like it. Let me know what you think :)

Chloe is drunk. Maze had taken her to Lux for drinks, but had gotten a call from Linda, something to do with Charlie, and had to leave earlier than expected, leaving Chloe to wallow in self pity. Two drinks later, horny and depressed, Chloe pays her tab and rushes to the elevator leading to Lucifer’s penthouse, or she supposes it is Michael’s penthouse now.

For the first six months after Lucifer went back to Hell, Chloe had done everything she could to keep herself together. The night he left, Chloe wanted to collapse into his bed and never get up again, but she still had a daughter who needed her, friends who worried about her, and cases that needed to be solved. So Chloe had thrown herself into work, doing everything she could to move on from Lucifer. She needed to move on from Lucifer. But the reminders of Lucifer were impossible to avoid, and then Michael showed up. Michael was the biggest reminder of all. 

Michael had emerged five weeks ago, initially pretending to be Lucifer. When she first saw him, Chloe’s heart had leapt thinking Lucifer had come back to her. However, she quickly learned that Michael was, in fact, Lucifer’s twin brother. A twin brother who Lucifer had of course never mentioned. This revelation had sent her spiraling. Seeing someone who looked _so much_ like Lucifer yet was not Lucifer threatened to break her into a million pieces. Since then she had successfully avoided Michael. She was done with angels and their earth-shattering problems. All they did was bring her more heartbreak. Tonight, however, the alcohol in her veins impairs her judgement, and her feet shuffle out of the elevator and into the penthouse against her will. She may not be able to have Lucifer, but tonight, she will make do with the next closest thing. 

Chloe knows she should not do this with Michael. Rather, she should stay as far away from Michael as possible, but she needs something to fill the void left behind by Lucifer, as much as she knows she’ll hate herself for it. 

Michael is lounging on the couch, spread across the cushions without a care in the world as he watches the television. She could easily have mistaken him for Lucifer were it not for the turtleneck he wore that is definitely not Lucifer’s. Lucifer wouldn’t be caught dead in a shirt like that. What surprises her is how normal he looks, like any other average Joe. She could almost believe that he wasn’t the archangel Michael, the Prince of Heaven, the one who defeated Satan’s rebellion and cast him into Hell, _almost_. 

Michael notices her entrance and gives her a smirk that reminds her so much of Lucifer. Everything about him reminds her of Lucifer, but the voice that speaks is not Lucifer’s usual lilting British accent, but a drab American one. “Chloe Decker,” he exclaims, standing up, “What a surprise!”

Chloe does not reply as she continues to move toward him. Michael watches her movements with fascination as she closes the distance between them before grabbing his face and crushing her lips against his. Initially, Michael does not reciprocate, but when Chloe traces the seam of his lips with her tongue, demanding access, Michael obliges. Chloe rakes her hands over his body, feeling the shape of him through his clothes. She wonders if this is what it would feel like to kiss Lucifer like this. Her heart aches knowing she’ll never find out the answer to that question.

When she eventually pulls away to breathe, Michael gives her a quizzical look. “I’m not complaining, Chloe, but what-” he begins, in the voice she hates.

Chloe presses her index finger against his lips to shut him up before he can finish. “Don’t talk to me,” she orders. She brings her lips next to his ear and whispers, “I want to fuck you, and I want you to pretend to be Lucifer while I’m doing it. You’re pretty good at it after all.” She wrinkles her nose before continuing, her voice darkening, “And don’t speak at all, as much as you look like him you do a terrible job of talking like him.” She pulls back, giving him a chance to process what she’s asking. “Got that?” she asks, voice unwavering. 

Desire brims in Michael’s eyes. He nods, throwing his arms out, inviting her to touch him. Chloe pulls him back to her for another hard kiss, devouring him. She undresses him quickly, anxious to get him out of the clothes that remind her that he is not Lucifer. His clothes may not be Lucifer’s, but his body is. She has seen Lucifer naked many times, and Michael’s nude form is nearly identical, apart from a slight crook in his back that causes him to lean leftward. He’s beautiful. He and Lucifer are the most beautiful men she’s ever seen if she’s honest with herself. She touches him everywhere she can reach, imagining she’s actually touching Lucifer, tracing every curve and muscle with her fingers. She supposes this is what Lucifer’s body would have felt like, had she ever gotten the opportunity to touch him like this. Unfortunately, she will never know for sure. 

Michael stands like a statue, only moving in reaction to her movements. He seems unsure, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. She briefly wonders if he’s even had sex before. Is sex even a thing angels do in Heaven? She knows Lucifer has had plenty of sex, but he’s the Devil, and Amenadiel is clearly no stranger to it either, but he’s been on earth for a long time. She considers asking Michael, but decides it’s irrelevant. She was planning to take the lead tonight anyway. 

Ready to move things forward, Chloe pushes Michael toward the bed, and he goes where she guides him, spreading himself out on the bed for her without a trace of shyness. She imagines Lucifer would do the same. Nudity had never bothered Lucifer, and she guesses Michael is no different in that regard. Her eyes rove over his body, taking him all in. In this position his crooked back is no longer visible, and he is otherwise identical to Lucifer. However, her heart catches in her throat when she meets the eyes that are definitely not Lucifer’s. He stares at her with desire and a hint of curiosity, but devoid of the love and adoration she had found whenever Lucifer had looked at her. The look in his eyes shouldn’t surprise her, but it breaks her heart as yet another reminder that Michael is not Lucifer, that Michael can never replace Lucifer.

“Don’t look at me,” Chloe orders, choking back a sob, “Close your eyes.”

Michael gives her a perplexed look, but then he concedes, shutting his offending eyes. 

Chloe realizes she is still fully clothed, and she quickly sheds her clothing without much fanfare. While she undresses, Michael raises his eyebrows in interest, but he does not open his eyes. Chloe crawls over Michael’s body, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to his stomach, his chest, his neck, his jawline, and finally, his lips. With each press of lips against his body, Michael sighs in pleasure. Chloe pretends she is actually producing these sounds from Lucifer. 

A part of Chloe feels disgusted with herself for doing this, for taking pleasure for herself from Lucifer’s twin while Lucifer suffers in Hell. She was never strong enough for Lucifer. And here she is giving Michael everything she wanted to give Lucifer but never did due to her own cowardice. She rakes her nails over Michael’s body, scratching him, but his skin remains perfect and unblemished. Yet another reminder that he is not Lucifer: Michael is not vulnerable around her. This reminder angers her, and she violently pins him to the bed, biting his skin hard between her teeth with each new press of her lips against him, scraping her fingernails over him hard enough that he should bleed, but he doesn’t. 

She cannot imagine herself ever being this rough with Lucifer, and not just because Lucifer is vulnerable around her. She could never hurt Lucifer, but she wants to hurt Michael, to punish him for being here instead of Lucifer. Deep down she knows that it is not Michael’s fault that Lucifer is in Hell. Yes, he is the one that threw Lucifer out of Heaven, but he was only doing so in service to God, and it certainly isn’t his fault that demons forced Lucifer to go back to Hell again. Still, God is not here and Michael is, making Michael a convenient scapegoat. And what better way to get back at God than to use and degrade his loyal son as a glorified sex toy? 

The actual sex act is nothing special and only lasts a few minutes. Chloe quickly learns that Michael is woefully inexperienced and cannot maintain a rhythm. Still, she manages to get them both off, collapsing beside him afterward as they catch their breaths.

Michael opens his eyes for the first time since she told him to close them. His eyes roam her body with curiosity. “Was my performance satisfactory?” he breathes. 

_Which one_ , Chloe wonders sarcastically, _your sexual performance or your performance pretending to be your brother? Neither were showstopping_. “You were okay,” she mutters. She was dumb to think Michael could ever even attempt to fill the Lucifer-sized hole in her heart. 

Chloe feels emotionally wrecked after this ordeal. She wants to cry. _Keep yourself together Decker_ , she tells herself, _Don’t let Michael see how much he hurts you_. As soon as she catches her breath, she starts to throw her clothes back on with lightning speed. She feels sticky and disgusting, and she briefly considers rinsing off in Lucifer’s, no, Michael’s shower, but decides against it in her need to get away from Michael as quickly as possible. Michael watches her as she gathers her belongings and heads for the door, but doesn’t object. 

Too drunk to drive, Chloe is forced to call an Uber once she reaches the street. The driver gives her a sympathetic look. _Ugh. Is it that obvious?_ She must look as pathetic as she feels. When she finally reaches her apartment, she collapses as soon as she gets in the door. Her body shakes with uncontrollable sobbing as all the pain she’s been suppressing since Lucifer left catches up to her. When she finally calms herself down somewhat, she thumbs the bullet necklace that never leaves her neck, the piece of him she carries with her at all times nowadays. “I don’t know if you can hear me,” she whispers between quiet sobs, “but I miss you, and I love you.”

When she finally goes to sleep that night, she dreams of him, wearing his usual three-piece Armani suit, beautiful brown eyes filled with love, a friendly smirk plastered across his face, and great, gorgeous, white wings unfurled at full span. 

She sleeps peacefully that night.


End file.
